Multiverse
by Scripturiens
Summary: In celebration of digiOTPweek 2017, alternate universe galore! [Mimato] [AU]
1. Café au miel

**Disclaimer:** Digimon does not belong to me.

* * *

 **Notes:** Part one of #digiOTPweek2k17.

* * *

 **Title:** Café au miel  
 **Rating:** G  
 **Genre:** Friendship/Romance  
 **Prompt:** Every fandom needs its coffee shop AU.  
 **Word Count:** 2,000

* * *

 _ **Monday**_

* * *

On Monday mornings, Yamato doesn't even look up when the bell chimes. It is one of the busiest days of the week and half their customers are groggy, more asleep than awake while the other half is buzzing with excitement and energy and he isn't really sure which is worse. He focuses on keeping track of all orders and not making a mess of himself, which helps the day go by faster and keep Yamato sane.

This is also why he doesn't really care about being in charge of the orders while Sora takes over the register, too slow to handle hot items so early in the morning. Being in charge of taking orders can be a challenge, especially when clients often stutter or stare (popularity comes with a hefty price, alas).

"Latte with a little honey, please. Oh, can you add that _before_ the milk? Otherwise the foam is too sweet and the coffee is bland..."

"Can you get that?" Sora asks and Yamato is already on it. He trickles two teaspoons of pure honey into the cup and adds the piping hot espresso, making sure to mix it well before pouring the milk and foam. He throws a smattering of cinnamon on top and slides the drink up to Sora.

"Ja ne, Yasuo-san. Sora-san."

He barely catches a hint of pink and rolls his eyes.

Probably an _art student_ , or something.

* * *

 _ **Tuesday**_

* * *

Sora is great with customers, she remembers their names, draws cute things on their cups and often gives them just a little extra whipped cream on their orders. She has a kind smile, the sort that girls return happily and boys receive dumbly, which in turn makes Yamato roll his eyes to the far side of his head. But every once in a while a boy will come in and make of her a fumbling mess and these are moments he treasures dearly, because it's so rare to see her look so decidedly flustered.

Yamato is usually polite and has a very good memory, which is an advantage when it's a busy day and everyone's queuing to be responsible for his headaches. But he's also impatient and sometimes downright refuses to engage with anyone outside strict protocol. This makes him an unfortunate target for high school girls who come and sit for hours at a time, ogling and giggling and sometimes writing down their numbers on napkins he doesn't even pretend to read.

"Hi!"

The girl before him is very pretty and Yamato is for a moment, completely taken aback by this fact. She's not looking into his face, instead concentrating on the extensive menu behind him and he has to make a conscious effort not to sigh.

"Would you like a few more minutes to look at the menu?" he asks in his best, most neutral voice. The girl shakes her head and smiles _widely_ at him.

"No, that's okay. I'll have some raspberry-mint iced water, please."

"Coming right up."

"Can you crush the mint leaves? And give it a good shake before adding the raspberries."

He turns around to deliver her order and ring her up. The girl takes it and with the briefest of glances at his name-tag, shakes a hand saying, "Thanks, Yamoriko-san!"

Sora sneaks a glance. "Yamo-riko?"

Yamato makes an irritated, _tsk_ sound. It's only Tuesday and he's already about to give up.

"Don't even think about it."

* * *

 ** _Wednesday_**

* * *

On Wednesdays Yamato takes the late shift because he's got evening class and needs his mornings to both rest and advance on his assignments. These are usually good shifts, fairly busy because it's also the day he checks on storage levels and next week's schedule for part-timers. It's not really _his_ job, but his boss, Nadeshiko-san, has figured the other employees are kind of afraid of him so she won't budge.

He's finishing up the schedule when she comes in and he only recognises her due to the unusual, dreamy pink of her hair. She's holding several books in her hands and looks tired and still very pretty and Yamato forces himself to smile back when she does, peripherally, before settling in a table for two right by the window. It doesn't take long for her to be joined by a tall young man with short, dark hair and clear glasses. The girl looks happy to see him but Yamato looks away, searching for Sora.

She's staring at the scene as surreptitiously as she can, but a fierce blush betrays her face.

Yamato smirks. "Do you want me to take it?"

"Don't be silly," she snaps, scowling. It's not a good look for her. "I don't _care_."

He dodges a slap on his arm as he chuckles low at her denial. He catches the girl's eye for an instant and she smiles vibrantly at him, so much it flusters him into moving to the back office until she's gone.

* * *

 _ **Thursday**_

* * *

She comes by again on Thursday, wearing a yellow dress and a cute straw hat. Her shades are shaped like hearts and Yamato is ready to bet good money on her asking for the pink and sparkly frapuccino on sale. He's about to suggest as much when she glances briefly at him, waving at Takuya in the back.

"Welcome, what can I do you for today?"

"Japaccino," she says brightly. "Extra whipped cream!"

"No problem, but we'll have to—"

"Don't worry, I know it's extra," she slides him her payment and _winks_ as he hands over her order. "Thanks, Yamaguchi-san!"

Yamato's eyebrow twitches. She _is_ the definition of 'extra', if he ever saw it.

"It's not—,"

But she's already waving with her back turned to him, leaving him amidst a shower of barely-contained giggles.

* * *

 _ **Friday**_

* * *

It's Friday afternoon and the café is packed with college and high school students and a few friendly neighbours. He wasn't supposed to come in today but Izumi called in sick and he had time (the extra pay doesn't hurt and it's always good to have Izumi in one's debt), so he's helping out behind the counter while the rest wait the tables. The girl with pink hair is back again and this immediately annoys Yamato. She's sitting pretty at the table near the window, directly within his range of view. The same guy from before accompanies her and Sora doesn't take long in bringing in their order (green tea and chocolate cake for him, café au miel and a slice of carrot cake, presumably for her).

"I think that's his girlfriend," Sora declares glumly. It's normal to develop crushes on some of the regular customers, especially for someone so friendly like Sora. _Megane-kun_ (as Yamato often refers to him) seemed to be friendly, a little spacey, med-student and veritable Good Guy, also the sort of man someone like Sora would be unable to resist. Unfortunately for her, he also seemed to be very taken by the pretty girl sitting with him (Yamato doesn't care about this, no matter how bright her smile is).

Yamato shrugs. "Most likely."

"You're supposed to cheer me up!"

"When have I ever? Besides, if you really wanted, you could just ask him out."

Instead of flipping him off (he would've expected nothing less of anyone but her), Sora loads her tray and turns back to their clients while the rest of the team pours, mixes, shakes and garnishes beverages of various types and sizes. Yamato has just finished handing over six double frothy capuccinos to a group of teenagers and is startled by a shock of pink hair that accompanies a permeating floral scent. It mingles wonderfully with the coffee, something he notes and then dismisses with flustered alarm.

"Can I help you with something?" he asks, not unkindly.

The girl leans on his counter, chin in hand. She's looking over at her table, where Sora is nodding at the young man who continues to shake his head and hands—they both look very flustered. "He's hopeless when it comes to these things. Do you know we've been here every day this week, just to see Sora-san?" When Yamato doesn't answer (he's too shocked to do so), the girl grins wickedly. "If this doesn't work, then nothing will. I knocked over his tea."

His mouth opens and then his lip curls. "We—she thought you were his girlfriend."

"Yeah? I hope he has a mind to clear that up." she says, laughing. Her eyes crinkle at their corners and Yamato tries not to stare. "Well, I'll be having a honey coffee to go then, please. You can add that to his tab."

He glances at Sora, who's shuffling her feet awkwardly while Megane-kun fumbles with his glasses. His friend seems to be more amused than malicious and so, despite himself, he serves up her order and writes it down on his own tab.

"Much obliged, Yaku-san."

"I'm not—,"

"Let me know how it goes!"

* * *

 _ **Saturday**_

* * *

To his credit, he's actually prepared for her this time (or as prepared as he can be, considering), so when she strides purposely to his counter (it's no coincidence he's on the register today, too), Yamato greets her with a cool, knowing smile.

"Welcome, what will you be having today?"

She eyes Sora in the background, who gives her a tiny wave that makes her brush prettily and when she looks at Yamato, she's remarkedly less composed.

"Jyou said he didn't pay for my coffee," she cuts right to the chase and Yamato nods, impressed.

"A token of Sora's appreciation."

"Sora-san didn't pay for it, either," her eyes narrow. "I checked."

"Our hospitality, then."

"I didn't know you were so giving."

"We're a magnanimous business. It was nothing."

"Well, in that case ... thanks for nothing, Yakamochi-san."

This is what he's been waiting for and judging by the roll in his eyes and the amused glint in hers, so has she. "It's Yamato."

"What is?" her eyelashes are so long, they brush her cheeks when she blinks. He thinks it must be on purpose and no-one should have the right, really.

"My name. Not Yaku, not Yamaguchi, not—,"

"Yamoriko?"

"Especially not _that_."

"I see," she says, tossing caramel rose curls over a pale, thin shoulder. "Well, ja ne, Yamato-kun."

Their fingers (his, mostly his, but she doesn't recoil) linger and never has the warmth of a steaming cup of coffee seemed sweeter. "You won't tell me your name?"

She leans over the counter, tip-toeing to kiss the air around him, just close enough for him to see the smatter of freckles on her nose and cheeks, smell the sweetness of her lip gloss. _Too far_.

"Sunday. Ask me again, Yamato-kun," and she touches her ear twice, grinning as she leaves the coffee store and he swears the air around her shimmers.

* * *

 ** _Sunday_**

* * *

"Espresso, steamed milk, honey and a just the right amount of cinnamon."

"A fine drink, if I say so myself."

"My compliments to the chef," she nods, taking the warm paper cup from him.

"Barista. I don't cook, really."

"At all?"

Yamato shrugs as he slides into the chair opposite her table, a macchiato sitting between them and saving him from being too idle. "I'm not averse to it."

"Where's your apron, Mr. Perfect Cup?" she asks, eyeing him with interest. He's wearing a crisp white shirt and dark blue jeans, ankle suede boots that give his casual look just a touch of _dressy-enough_. She looks devastating in a short denim dress, a pink cardigan around her shoulders lending to the blush in her cheeks and bringing out the highlights of her hair.

"I'm not working today." He's hiding behind his cup, taking a small sip and pondering over the next course of action. "Would you like to take a walk with me?" And he pauses, his smile working its way into his clear blue eyes. He touches his ear, twice. "Mimi-san."

Mimi is all smiles, white teeth and red apples in her cheeks. The taste of honey is sweet on her tongue. "I'd love to."


	2. Deuces

**Disclaimer:** Digimon does not belong to me and neither do the X-Men. Might be completely ooc from the superheroes you may know and expect.

* * *

 **Title:** Deuces  
 **Rating:** G  
 **Genre:** Drama/Romance  
 **Prompt:** Superheroes AU  
 **Word Count:** 2,202

* * *

I don't gamble but if I did, I would bet on us.

 _"Dead Sea"_ , The Lumineers

* * *

The first time they meet, a bomb sets off to her right, nearly deafening her.

 _"Out of the way!"_

It's a full-blown battle and her teammates are running, flying around her and tearing the city to the ground. She grabs hold of the first non-friend near her; there is a flash of light, so many images, so much anger and passion, and so much cold. Then there is nothing. She stands, eyes glowing white and creates a snowstorm around them that steals the air from everyone's lungs, all warmth gone from their limbs. Sora joins in and together, they manage to subdue the chaos around them just long enough to draw back.

The professor says it's important to know when to pull back from a battle already won, but Mimi resents not being able to finish it once and for all. They don't deserve this momentary peace.

.

.

Sora doesn't like anything about him. From the way he walks, too quietly, always brooding, to the way he talks in that low, sweet voice and how his French slips in every now and then. Mimi watches him from a safe distance in the library while he sits under her favourite oak tree, seemingly harmless. From here, he looks just like any other guy in the academy, he could be anyone and do anything. Perhaps, from here, he isn't the assassin she knows him to be though that possibility doesn't stop her from being angry, too.

The object of her current irritation enters the room and Mimi doesn't turn around when he asks, "Are you going to keep ignoring me?"

She can hear the anger in the way he's breathing so heavily through his nostrils. The thought brings her immense pleasure.

"Mimi, he's a friend."

"He tried to _kill_ us," she tells him, fixing him with a stare. "Nearly damn succeeded, too."

Ryo frowns and she can almost believe him to be flustered. The years and scars have hardened his face and he hasn't shaved in a while. Sometimes she wonders how she could ever find him attractive but then, there are so few men that don't run away when met with her...

"He's not a bad guy," is the only thing he says. Mimi stands quietly and slips by him, half-waiting for him to flinch away from her touch. He doesn't, but then again, she doesn't touch him either.

.

.

"I have the strangest feeling you don't like me much."

"I didn't know you were telepathic, too. Mimi, did you know?"

Mimi glances uneasily at Sora, frowning. She's usually much nicer, the sweetest person Mimi has ever met but old habits die hard and this guy had a very good shot at blowing Sora's boyfriend to bits and pieces. You don't forget a thing like that so easily, no matter whose side you say you're on.

"I'm sorry," he says, sneering. "You weren't giving me much of a choice, you know."

"I'm going to find Taichi. You're staying?"

Mimi looks alarmed. "I'll be there in a minute." Sora leaves without another word and Mimi sighs. "She'll come around," she offers, despite not entirely believing her own words. "You _did_ shoot at him."

He considers her for a moment and Mimi struggles not to break eye contact. He's handsome, not like Taichi, who is rugged and a bit rough; his features are delicate, would be almost too pretty if it weren't for the scars and the eerie, unnatural blue of his eyes. Mimi thinks it must be hard, having people always avert your eyes.

"What about you?"

She pouts. It's not his fault, she thinks, that Ryo thought it was a good idea to bring him in. His instincts are almost always right, even if the way he handles things is completely wrong. "I'm angrier at someone else at the moment, so you're good."

.

.

"So what's your power?" he asks, settling on the grass near her. He eyes her carefully, from her closed toe shoes to the pants and long sleeves, the gloves she's begun to put on the moment he approached her. "Hypersensitivity to the sunlight?"

"I'm—," she pauses, taking a small breath. He's toying with a playing card between his fingers, doing all sorts of ridiculous little tricks; it's the queen of hearts. Mimi smiles ruefully. "I'm a thief."

Gambit—that's what he calls himself these days—stops twirling the card and looks at her, smiling and she's sure she has never seen him smile before. He throws the card with scary precision into the sky and it blows up in tiny pieces, the cardboard falling around them like dry snow. "That's funny," he says, though he isn't smiling anymore. "So am I."

.

.

During the next few months, they spend a lot more time together. They train and eat together and sometimes he helps her study. Most of the time he's off on his own while Mimi attends her lessons and then he shows her a few nifty little tricks he's been working on. Sora doesn't hate him anymore and though Taichi still grumbles every now and then, she's sure he likes him more than he lets on. It's hard not to. He's quiet and polite, charming when he wants to be, clever even without trying. The professor values his input and experience and much of their success can be owed to the things he has brought and taught them.

The word _'mercenary'_ lingers in the air, still too raw to forget. Mimi tries not to think too much about it but sometimes she wonders, too, what kind of story he drags behind.

"Why do they call you Rogue?"

The light in the greenhouse casts a strange look on him, like a wraith or some other dream-demon of old.

"I ran away from home, left this place a couple of times," she sticks her tongue out at him. "I guess, there aren't many other things you could call me."

"I could think of a few," he says, and it's so rare to see him joke, Mimi doesn't know how to respond. So she tosses her hair over her shoulder and gives him a nonchalant shrug.

"Why'd they call you _Gambit?_ "

"It's a trick move," he answers, tilting the waterpot into the cacti she's been looking after. "And an unfortunate nickname."

.

.

A new group of students arrives late that autumn, and Mimi greets them as happily as she can. Some of them are orphans, others are runaways, like her. A few were sent in by understanding parents who figure out it's better for them to be with their kind. These are always the most miserable kids. She does her best to help them adjust to life at the institute, figure out the rules and generally keep out of harm's way. At the end of the day, despite their powers, they're still mostly children and are sometimes treated as such.

Because she's kind and rather beautiful, every now and then some boy who thinks he's too clever will try to make a pass at her. Mimi brushes them all off easily, light-heartedly; none must come to harm. But every once in a while someone will grow too bold and won't pay heed to the warnings. Accidents have happened before, it's how the rumors started.

"Hey, Rogue, check it out!"

It all happens so fast. The kid reaches out and holds fast to her wrist and suddenly Mimi's entire body is on fire. Someone screams and it takes a moment for her to realise it's _her_ , she's screaming and Takuya is on the floor and she can see the whites in his eyes. She's so sorry but she can't stay, not here, not with _him_ looking all but dead while flames melt down her limbs.

 _"Move!"_ she bellows and she runs, fast, away and out into the woods that surround the property. She can see flashes of his life, his family, the scent of baking bread mixes unpleasantly with the smell of charred hair, clothes and skin. Mimi stops, doubles over and throws up until her stomach is empty.

.

.

He finds her sitting on a rock, near the small pond on the eastern field of the property.

"They were all looking for you."

"How is he?"

He scratches his jaw, solemn. "A bit dazed, but he'll live. I think he's mostly embarrassed though."

"I didn't mean to do it," she murmurs, hiding her face in her arms. "He caught me off guard, I couldn't—,"

"He shouldn't have touched you," he says, so fiercely that Mimi looks up and nearly misses his expression, fogged as her eyes are. He seems to notice and runs a hand through his hair; when he turns to her all traces of it are gone and he's smiling good-naturedly. "You really are something, aren't you, _chére?_ "

.

.

They hadn't been expecting it. One moment they were together, having dinner and the next their _intercoms_ were buzzing and the Blackbird was loaded and ready to go. Mimi hesitates briefly but Taichi _(sweet Taichi)_ holds on to her hand and tugs on it. "We're a team," he says, then smiles that half-smile that irritates her so much. "And you're coming with us."

They drop down on ground zero and the fight that ensues is exhausting, both terrifying and exhilarating. She's never had free range with her powers before but this time she doesn't have time to think, to plan; she takes what she needs and gives them what they deserve. She's fought Magneto before, she's not afraid to do it again and the multiple explosions that seem to follow (but never touch her) are all the reassurance she needs.

Smoke chokes her lungs and she dives away from the blast, covering her face with her arms. He's gliding towards her, so close that she can touch him so she _does_ , she dives for him and clutches his face, there's a huge blast behind her and the rest is all dark.

.

.

His eyes are the first thing she sees when she awakes. His face, usually composed, is a mess of dirt and sweat. There's blood trickling from his left brow and his eye is completely shut. He's devastating nonetheless and she's never been happier to see him.

"Rogue?" His voice is hoarse, like he's been screaming. She's drifting back into unconsciousness and desperate, he kisses her. She gasps and falls into his outstretched arms.

Things are never the same between them again.

.

.

"You could've died," she says bitterly, sitting in the hospital ward. The harsh bright lights make him look sickly pale and this makes her heart shrink. Because she's absorbed Ryo's powers on more than one occassion, Mimi heals rather fast and is already looking a lot like her former self. He's not as lucky, still a bit mangled and wearing an eye-patch over his left eye. The other one shines as startlingly blue as the first time they met.

"But I didn't," he sighs. "I thought you'd be happier about it."

"You shouldn't have!"

"You were _on the ground_ —!"

"I don't mean the _bomb_ ," her voice has gone uncharacteristically quiet and he hesitates only a moment before moving, carefully, to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. The usual rose gold of her hair is framed by locks of silver, brighter than ever before. She flinches a little and her eyes fill with tears.

"I don't regret it. I would only hope you don't, either."

.

.

It feels so good to be touched again. His fingers _(gloved, almost always gloved)_ , lightly brush her cheeks and Mimi leans in to his touch. He bends down to place his lips on her shoulder; the kiss lingers soft and sweet and she shudders underneath his touch. They lay together like this, with him resting on her breast and tracing circles on her skin. She sighs, curling into him and placing her hand on his hair, kissing the backs of her fingers.

The psyonic imprint of his mind lingers somewhere in the back of hers, a cruel reminder of a moment that was stolen from them. He's louder than others, trembling with the sort of intensity that threatens to be overwhelming.

"What else did you see?"

"Your house, friends you have lost. The family you grew up with." She's crying again. "I'm sorry."

He rolls over to lay beside her, taking a deep breath and looking up into the ceiling. When he turns, both eyes are focused on her. "Call me by my name."

So she smiles, breathless, and he kisses her open palm. "Okay, Yamato."

.

.

"I want to kiss you."

A breathless laugh escapes her, ending in a sob that shakes her to her core. "I thought I had lost you."

"You could never lose me, _chére_. I couldn't bear it."

This time she _does_ laugh and it's almost infectious, like something from his childhood he thought he had lost. His lips curl against the cloth that covers her neck and he kisses her pulse. If this moment is all they'll have, then—

"You're a prince, Ishida Yamato."

"Prince of thieves. Let's steal one more from Fate, hm?"

* * *

 **Notes:** Part two of #digiOTPweek2k17 and a couple of observations.

1\. I was already halfway done when someone pointed out this could've worked with Yamato as Rogue and Mimi as Gambit. I was tempted but upon the rewrite, I realised there were a few traits I wanted to keep and decided not to do it. I may or may not regret this decision.

2\. In chess, a 'gambit' is an opening where you move a pawn that requires a sacrifice.

3\. I regret so much about this piece but didn't want to miss out on the superhero fun! I'm trash.

4\. The last lines are are from an actual panel from the comics and were originally what inspired me to write about them.


	3. Interstellar

**Title:** Interstellar  
 **Rating:** G  
 **Genre:** Drama/Romance  
 **Prompt:** Fantasy & Sci-fi AU because two is better than one, or so goes the old adagio.  
 **Word Count:** 2,201

* * *

You're so down to earth and I'm up in the stars,  
So show me the sea and I'll take you to Mars.

* * *

CS1: OK. The fuel is go; about 1 ½ g's; cabin pressure is just coming off the peg; the O2 is go; we have 26 amps.

CS2: Roger. Pitch 88, the trajectory is good.

CS3: Roger, looks good here.

CS1: OK, there. We're starting to pick up a little bit of the noise and vibration; not bad, though, at all. 50 secs., more vibration.

CS2: Whenever you're ready, de-pressurize the cabin and exit the vehicle. Your trajectory is marked, you only need to find the probe and change its solar panel.

MW0: Roger. Readings are good, pressure is OK. I'm making my way to the Rover.

CS3: I'm picking up some static on my line.

CS2: Roger. Mine too. Ishida, do you copy us?

MW0: Barely. You're breaking up a little - check the transmission engine and long range receptors.

CS1: It could have something to do with recent solar flares - the magnetic fields mess up reception sometime.

CS3: Roger. We're re-starting the system, don't be alarmed for a few minutes silence and don't lose visual.

MW0: Roger.

* * *

There's static on his line and suddenly, there's only silence. It has been 163 days since Ishida Yamato arrived at the International Space Station, roughly at the same time the H-II Transfer Vehicle _Kōnotori,_ and this is his first time walking the moon's surface.

 _CS1: Ishida, I reconnected to check in on you. It'll be half an hour at least before we can make contact again._

 _CS1: Do you copy?_

MW0: Roger. I'm sorry, the view ... it's really something else.

 _CS1: [chuckles] Roger. Don't stray from course, you're doing fine._

Space is terrifying. It's vast, unimaginably so, and darker than anything Yamato has ever seen. Working outside the station is always a humbling and terrifying experience, being tethered to something solid only through a limited band, but _walking_ over the moon is an entirely different sort of scary. He can see the maria in the distance, the tides preserved by what was once volcanic lava. His breath hitches and it sounds incredibly loud in his over-sensitized ears.

It's dark, his path illuminated only by the hi-tech lantern on his helmet, the Rover he occupies and the stars above.

Yamato speaks into his recorder:

"Ishida Yamato, hour 14:06 Earth-time. I'm on my way South of the Earth's moon. I have been assigned to recharge and repair the Moon Impact Probe. We anticipate SELENE's Kaguya will orbit around the same time and have arranged for a possible check-up. Communication with the Space Station is down. The silence is ... " A twinkle catches his eye and he pauses, blinking fast. "Overwhelming."

.

.

15:22 Earth-time.

"It's been little under an hour and a half and Command hasn't checked in. Transmission is grainy at best, interference is impossible to deal with. Mission's course remains true."

He can hear himself talk, like a recorder, and it feels like a caricature of sorts. The technical details of his expedition are important but so is the overwhelming terror of being utterly alone. He can hear himself breathe, clear and loud and when he's thinking about this, he is deafened by the sound of his own pulse. Rationally, he understands that this is routinary and that many others have done it before him; the risks are too low to be considered a real liability. Fear isn't rational though, and Yamato has to pause for a moment before continuing his slow trek.

.

.

17:49 Earth-time.

"It has been three hours and forty-three minutes since Command's last communication. I arrived safely at Lunar Station 00, data is downloading for revision on the ISS and reparations for the solar panels should be done in little over an hour. It's grown darker but there are sporadic bursts of bright light. I suspect solar flare activity is picking up and remain wary of exposure. Must've been what damaged the panels..."

He turns off the microphone and looks outside the window. The Lunar Station 00 is a small laboratory facility installed upon the moon's surface as a safe-house for astronauts on repair or reconnaissance missions. It also collects all data pertaining lunar activity and is continuously feeding both the International Space Station and several other international agencies back on Earth. It is not a manned post and as such, it is not equipped to harbour guests for more than a few hours of hard work. There are emergency supplies, batteries, oxygen tanks and a special command button that can only be accessed through individual codes in case of a red alert. Yamato needs only to plug in his coordinates and update the travel log. He's almost done when he sees it.

In the horizon, a sharp beam of light flashes and then disappears. He stands abruptly and immediately takes his equipment, double-checks the seals on his suits and the vaccum entry and emerges into the inhospitable surface once more. The low gravity is tenuous at best and moving as easily as he did on Earth is difficult but Yamato is _very_ quick. As he steps in behind a boulder and in front of the source, blinking fast, he holds up one hand and on the other, a laser heat gun.

 _"What the..."_

The thing shines brightly, contained in unspecific, ever-changing shapes but he cannot determine an exact source. There hasn't been anything like this in any of the logs, nothing indicating any sort of sentient activity. Yamato stops, riled at the invasive thought of _sentient_ life. He takes a deep breath, willing his heart-rate down because he can't hear anything and there's a strange sort of ringing in his ears, like wind-chimes in a spring breeze. Yamato's teeth are grinding hard and his jaw feels sore and tense.

The ringing in his ears intensifies and it sounds like—,

 _—laughter._

 _._

 _._

18:25 Earth-time.

"I'm going to approach the object for samples."

The sounds are jarring at times, like an out-of-tune old radio transmitter and the source of light appears to be solid and then liquid. When he steps outside the boulder, the ringing stops and he swears he hears a _gasp_. He approaches the source of light slowly but firmly and when he's close enough, the sight stuns him.

It's a woman, or something that looks vaguely like one. Yamato's voice fails him and he can only gape, mute, as the creature rises from the crater-like surface with surprising ease. Her body is made of what appears to be pure light, shimmery and insubstantial. There is no depth to its proportions, he can see right through it as it—she, approaches.

He thinks, _this is how I die_ , but his body reacts quicker than his mind.

"State your purpose and origin," he hears himself say, despite the absolute improbability of the situation. The light that comes from within this being burns bright enough to force his eyes shut and when he opens them, it is already gone.

There is no evidence whatsoever of what he believes he saw. The camera shows nothing but blank space and dust and his microphone picks up no signal but his own voice. He knows he can't delay his return to the station and so he returns to the base and finishes the work he was sent to do. He flexes his fingers consciously in an effort to will some warmth back into them.

"It's the silence," he reasons. "It's driving me crazy."

The trek back is quiet, as quick as he dares to move away from this lonely, inhospitable place. He can see already the ship and releases a breath he hadn't realised he was holding.

.

.

There is a crack in the static and the light turns green.

CS1: Commander Ishida, do you copy? I repeat, Commander Ishida, do you copy?

MW0: Roger. This is Commander Ishida.

CS1: Oh, thank fuck. Sorry there, MS Young.

CS2: Mind your language, MS Hughes. Commander, what's your status?

MW0: Stable, on route back to the capsule. I should be back at the space station within two hours.

CS1: Roger. Any novelty at the base?

MW0: [pause]

MW0: Nothing to report, sir.

CS2: We'll fill you in on your way back, Commander. Good job.

MW0: Roger, I look forward to it.

CS1: Roger. We'll see you soon, lucky dog.

Yamato wonders at that expression as he listlessly follows the procedure and way back into the ship that will take him to the station. His colleagues are at a loss for an explanation on why the devices failed and so all exploratory missions are halted until they reach a satisfactory answer.

 _Lucky_ , he thinks.

.

.

Some nights, he dreams about a being made of light with eyes as fierce as the sun. Some nights he comes to her in his dreams, so close he can touch her shimmery hair and bathe in the tinkling sound of her laughter. Once, he swore their lips touched. Most nights though, he only watches her from afar and when the song is over, he shakes his head and in the nanoseconds it takes him to realize he wants to see her up close, she has already disappeared.

Tonight is one of such nights, at least until his eyes fly open and he is met with a look of pure, molten gold.

"What are you doing here?"

 _You were calling for me_.

"I was?"

 _In your sleep._

Yamato shifts, sitting on his bed with his arm dangling just off his knee. He peers curiously at her, wary as his hand darts out to touch her.

"Just what _are_ you?"

She is proud, he learns, and a little vain. Up close she looks more like a woman than ever, or an echo of one with gleaming, translucent skin. The light she casts is paler now, hurts less to see her and he wonders briefly if this is for his sake. But she moves swiftly, just out of his fingers' reach and her laughter is all around him once again.

 _What am I? I am ... light. Stardust and cosmic energy._

 _._

 _._

Yamato isn't an unreasonable person. He knows he needs to address the issue of his hallucinations sooner rather than later and briefly considers looking for counseling when he goes back home. He is almost at the end of his mission and the thought of returning to Earth looms dauntingly in the back of his mind.

He lies on the floor, the cold material against his over-heated, over-sensitized skin keeps him grounded. She hovers above him, a mirror of his position though her expression seems to be amused and teasing. His eyes travel involuntarily (or perhaps less so) down her translucent body, lower than her waist where ribbons of light form what he can only think of as a long gown or a fish's tail.

"What is your name?"

 _Men have called me many things before. It's all the same to me._

He has never been a particularly keen conversationalist and his approach is objective and precise. She answers both freely and lavishly and seems to be more curious of his questions rather than him, as she so very rarely asks.

"Do you know my name?"

 _I have glimpsed it._

"Can you say it?"

Here, she hesitates.

 _I don't know how._

It seems only natural to kiss her. He reaches towards her, supporting himself on his forearms and elbows and she doesn't react at first, so he continues until his lips touch hers. He had expected everything but the soft sensation of lips, something warm and wet and soft. Yamato feels his chest swell and when he draws back, her eyes, clearer now, are wide open.

"It's Yamato," he says.

And for the first time, like a song dispelled, she murmurs, "Yamato."

.

.

He wakes up on his own bed, alone. His memory of last night's dream is blurry, too bright in some places and completely dark in others. He shifts as he prepares for his last day on this mission. He will be boarding the Soyuz within hours with two other colleagues and within four orbits, will land somewhere in the grassy plains of Kazakhstan. It'll be a few more days before he's cleared to leave to Japan, too.

Instinctively, he touches his lips and isn't entirely surprised when his fingers are coated by a thin film of fine, glittery dust. On Earth, she will be an old, blurry memory, a cold lump of rock that once carried the secrets of stars.

"Wait for me, Mimi-san."

* * *

 **Notes:** I was a little stuck and then got very busy, but I have every intention of finishing this small collection. A few things to consider about this one:

1\. The dialogue is actually at least partially faithful. I was inspired after reading some transcripts for the Apollo Mission disasters.

2\. Did you know there aren't very many stories about space mermaids? It was the original concept.

3\. I'm tempted to actually write this story but for the purposes of this collection, this was a good place to stop.


End file.
